Chapter Text
Tony’s mind was still an anxious mess of swirling thoughts and memories as he followed Steve down the stairs on shaky legs. He kept an iron grip on the handrail, not yet trusting his knees not to give out under him. He knew he shouldn’t feel surprised at the way Steve was trying his best to help him since the minute he’d been woken up by Tony’s panic attack. As much as he sometimes wanted to deny it – Steve was not only the best leader the Avengers could dream of having, no, he was also someone who genuinely cared about everyone. Even if he happened to be not on the best of terms with the person in question.
Still, Tony couldn’t help but feel… if not surprised, then at least insecure about Steve being so gentle with him when they’d been snapping at each other only hours before. Although his conscious mind knew Steve and his empathy for everyone, his subconscious had simply not expected this. God, that sounded pathetic even in his own mind. Poor little Tony didn’t think he was worth Steve’s help because Daddy had trampled his self-esteem into the ground when he was a kid. Boo-hoo. Why not start bawling into Steve’s shoulder about his messed-up childhood right now when they were already at it? Jeez. Tony almost scoffed. He really should start getting a grip on himself again. Having Steve see him so helpless was embarrassing enough. (Not that he wasn’t secretly really, really glad he’d been panicking loud enough to rouse Steve from his sleep half an hour ago. But he didn’t feel like acknowledging that right now. Or ever.)
Shaking his thoughts off, Tony followed Steve into the kitchen and accepted the glass that was pressed into his hands. He nodded his thanks as he leaned against the counter and took a sip. The water tasted pleasantly cool in his desert-like mouth, and he felt his still tight throat muscles finally relax as he kept drinking slowly.
Meanwhile, Steve got himself a glass of water too and wandered over to the opposite part of the kitchen to look out the window.
Tony had no idea why, but for some reason he felt suddenly glad that Steve was leaving him some space for a moment, and be it simply by turning his back to him while still being a reassuring presence in the room.
Tony closed his eyes and pressed the cool glass to his cheeks. Even though his hands and feet were still resembling ice cubes, his face felt overheated. Only now Tony noticed that his shirt was absolutely drenched in sweat. Ugh, he really couldn’t be easy in the eyes right now. (Or the nose, for that matter.) He pushed his free hand through his hair, sticky with a mixture of half-dried sweat and the remains of yesterday’s hair gel. He was in serious need of a shower. Tony drained the last of his water and had to admit to himself that he was already feeling a little better. If only the lingering thoughts at the back of his mind weren’t there, waiting for the right moment to strike and-
Tony inhaled sharply and clenched his had around the glass. His heart rate started to pick up once more. Oh God, not again. He couldn’t deal with another panic attack right now. He had to think about something else. Something that didn’t send waves of terror through him. But his mind was filled with images of spaceships, aliens, his friends dead in front of his eyes, dead, dead, dead-
“Let me take that,” Steve’s calm voice cut through his rapidly spiraling thoughts as the glass was gently pried from Tony’s grasp. His gaze snapped up. He hadn’t even noticed Steve standing in front of him but was more than glad for the interruption.
Steve put both their glasses onto the kitchen counter behind Tony’s back, his hand brushing Tony’s shoulder as he drew it back. Although the slight touch would have seemed unintentional to anyone else, Tony knew that Steve had deliberately used it to try and ground him, make him stay in the present. He swallowed. “Thanks,” Tony said, and they both knew he wasn’t expressing his gratitude that Steve had relieved him of his glass.
Steve smiled at him. “Sure.” He paused. “Do you want to try and get a few more hours of sleep? No offense, but you look pretty exhausted.”
Tony bit the inside of his cheek. It was tempting. God, he was so tired. But despite that, he knew for sure that what sleep he might get wasn’t going to be restful. So he sighed and shook his head. “I don’t think that would be the wisest thing to do right now.” The sun was already starting to rise anyway if the pale blue shimmer outside the kitchen window was any indication. Suddenly, Tony felt the strong desire to breathe some fresh air. “I’d rather go outside for a bit,” he said and was not surprised when Steve immediately volunteered to join him.
They stepped out into the cool morning air barely five minutes later. Tony had changed out of his sweaty shirt and was distinctly glad to have pulled on his hoodie jacket too. It was cold so early in the morning, but the sky was cloudless and promised a warm, sunny day. The two of them headed down the few steps leading to the veranda and started to walk slowly.
While behind them on the eastern horizon, there was already a slight golden shimmer to be seen, the sky in front of them was still mostly dark. As Tony looked up, he could see the faint sparkling of fading stars, millions of tiny dots that were invisible back home in New York City.
“This is beautiful, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” Tony agreed, too mesmerized to take his gaze off the sky. He’d never really been into watching nature or anything, being the city boy that he was, but he could appreciate a breathtaking view nonetheless. “Maybe we should invite ourselves to Clint’s more often,” he mused, only half-joking. This view was sure worth all the wood-chopping and tractor-repairing and dish-washing they would doubtlessly be condemned to do.
Well, probably.
Maybe.
Steve snorted. Tony glanced over at him in time to see his mouth quirk up in amusement. “I’m not sure Clint would appreciate us inviting ourselves into his home whenever we feel like stargazing, but you’re welcome to try your luck.”
Now it was Tony’s turn to huff. He made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “It’s not like he’d just kick me out. Clint’s not that heartless.”
Steve’s doubtful grin said more than thousand words ever could, and Tony frowned in mock thoughtfulness. “Okay, you’re right. Maybe he is that heartless, after all.”
Steve laughed. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” he accused, playfully nudging Tony with his shoulder. “And it’s not like you couldn’t afford a premises like this for yourself.”
“Yeah, well, but that would mean all of you guys would come by to hang out and eat all of my food and annoy me instead of Clint.” Tony shuddered. “Oh hell no, Rogers, that’s not happening.”
Steve raised an eyebrow. “And we don’t do that already on a regular basis? Avengers Tower is yours, after all.”
Tony waved a hand. “Details.” He put his hands into the pockets of his jacket and inhaled deeply, trying not to acknowledge the warmth that spread in his chest at the friendly banter. God, he had missed this. It had only been about two days since this mess had started, and with it the tension between him and the team, but to Tony it felt like ages.
“Steve,” he said after a moment of comfortable silence, and even he could hear that his own voice was devoid of all the humor that had been there seconds ago. Steve must have picked up on that too, because when he turned his head to meet Tony’s gaze, his playful smile had given way to a carefully neutral expression that was only betrayed by a slight crease in his brow.
Tony almost regretted having destroyed the relaxed atmosphere of the moment, but he knew he had to tell Steve about his reasons for creating Ultron. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes for a few seconds. “That Maximoff girl… Do you think she is able to make someone see the future? Like a prophetic vision?”
Steve seemed to consider his question for a moment, his face giving away nothing. “I don’t know,” he finally said. Tony tried not to feel disappointment at the answer. Of course Steve wouldn’t know. How could he, after all? It was not like Steve was an expert on telepathic mutations. Still, some tiny and possibly a little childish part of Tony had hoped that Steve would have an answer for the question that had been on his mind ever since his vision.
However, Steve wasn’t finished. “But I’m sure of one thing: Whatever she made you see, Tony, it was not with the intention of showing you the future. She aimed to manipulate us, tear us apart by attacking our most intimate thoughts. Her goal was to cause fear, not to show us the future.”
Tony nodded mutely, feeling Steve’s gaze linger on his face. Maybe he was right. God, how he hoped he was. Knowing what he had seen might be to become reality was unbearable.
Steve didn’t press further, didn’t ask what the girl had actually shown him, and Tony was grateful for that. His nerves were scraped raw and vulnerable. Suddenly, he was scared that telling Steve would bring the images back, pull him back down into the pitch black abyss of pure terror. Still, he felt like he needed to – and not only because he owed it to him.
They walked on in silence, and it was neither the awkward nor the comfortable kind. At least for Tony – Steve appeared to be as relaxed as usual – since there was simply too much anxious tension within him. For a while, Tony just focused on sucking in the cool morning air until he felt his head clear a little.
“You were dead,” he finally said. Even to himself, his voice sounded hollow and devoid of any emotion. “All of you. I found myself on some kind of planet, and there was nothing but darkness and space. I saw a portal, too, like the one Loki created three years ago, and those huge Chitauri space whale things. They were everywhere, and they were heading through the portal, straight to earth. And you – the team, everyone was lying there right in front of me, and you told me- You told me I-” Tony’s voice broke. Christ, when would he stop making a fool of himself? Steve and the others seemed relatively unfazed by their visions, and he couldn’t even keep the tremor out of his voice when talking about what he had seen.
“I told you everything’s your fault, didn’t I?”
Tony turned sharply to look at Steve. His teammate was closer to the truth than he would have given him credit for. He opened his mouth but no words came out. Only now he realized they had both stopped walking at some point.
Steve returned his gaze for a moment longer before shaking his head with a sigh. “I know you, Tony. It wasn’t very hard to make a guess.” He paused, and Tony just nodded mutely, suddenly unable to hold Steve’s gaze anymore. His throat was tight.
Steve took his time to continue, eyes skimming the horizon in thought. “The safety of the world doesn’t lie on your shoulders alone,” he finally said. “I know you feel responsible because you have the means to fight what threatens that safety. I do too – of course I do, and believe me when I tell you that the others feel the same way. That’s just the way it is – and it’s a good thing. But taking responsibility doesn’t mean you have to carry all of it on your own. That’s what a team is for, isn’t it? So if anything, it would be all of us who’s at fault. Not to mention that sometimes even the greatest effort isn’t enough to stop something bad from happening.”
Tony clenched his teeth, at a loss of what to say to that. Steve was right, of course he was. Sometimes even giving one’s best didn’t suffice. Tony knew that. Hell, how could he not? It wasn’t as if every mission he’d been on with his team had always been a hundred per cent successful. There were always going to be damage and casualties in their line of work. But being aware of that didn’t mean he was at peace with the idea that maybe if he’d been a little faster, a little smarter, a little more precise, he could have prevented someone’s death. The team had been lucky so far that none of them had been killed or seriously injured. But for how long? Who was to say if all of them were going to survive when they faced Ultron? And as much as Steve was right with his talk about team responsibility – that would be on him alone.
“That’s why you created Ultron in the first place, isn’t it? Because you were afraid that your vision might become reality, and you had to do everything in your power to prevent that.”
Only then Tony realized how long he had been lost in his thoughts, staring blankly at the horizon over Steve’s shoulder. He took a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh as he met his gaze. He let the corner of his mouth kick up in a sardonic half-smile. “Not my best idea, eh?”
Steve huffed. “No, not really. Just… think about the possible risks next time, okay? And, for Heaven’s sake, talk to one of us.”
Tony nodded mutely, suddenly unable to hold his gaze. Steve didn’t sound angry or even disappointed in him anymore, just… understanding. And Tony didn’t know if he liked or hated that. On the one hand, he was relieved that he hadn’t ruined their slowly developing friendship, but on the other hand… Tony felt like he didn’t deserve this. Steve was just too forgiving. Hell, he’d created a threat to the entire world! How could Steve be so damn understanding about it?
“And please stop beating yourself up about it.”
Now, Tony couldn’t help but let his gaze flicker towards Steve for a second. Was he really that easy to read?
Apparently he was, because Steve must have seen something in his eyes that prompted him to reach out and squeeze his shoulder, hesitating only for a moment before wrapping his arms around him in a hug. Tony was too perplexed to move at first. Then, his brain finally caught up with him, and he returned the embrace hesitantly. It didn’t feel as awkward as it should. Just warm and… and safe.
When Tony pulled back after a long moment, he felt like he should say something. Maybe thank Steve for being so kind about this whole mess, or maybe even apologize once more. Tell him something like this would never happen again. But when he met Steve’s gaze, the warm smile that greeted him vanquished all need to articulate any more words. It was okay.
In a comfortable silence, they started walking again, this time heading back towards the house. The sky behind it was gaining color, the sun peeking out over the horizon to cast the world in a warm golden shimmer. Tony looked back over his shoulder to where the sky was still mostly dark and felt oddly poetic. Even that part of the world would be bright and warm eventually, just as the sun would set again in the evening. It was then that Tony began to realize that not only nature was a cycle – life was much the same. Light and dark would always alternate, one unable to exist without the other. There would never be a thing such as eternal day, but what was even more important – it promised that even the darkest of nights wouldn’t last for ever.